


Blossoming, red, star

by AlmostCustard



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Backstory, But self care is making this story for myself finally, Humor, Maybe fluff, idk what this will be, or what I want it to be, updating tags as I make more chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-02 00:32:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17254262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmostCustard/pseuds/AlmostCustard
Summary: The backstory, and anything else for my Apprentice. The pages might be out of order as I think/write different parts of the story. This is just an experiment, and way to figure out my character! Mainly Valdemar and Omaira-centric Feel free to give me some feedback~





	1. The Tower before the game

You’ve been climbing this staircase for what feels like an eternity. You don’t remember how you got here, or why you are climbing, but your memories do not extend past this endless tower. The steps leave you in a trance, equal footfalls thundering in your ears; _step, step, step, step_.

            If you had a life before this, it no longer matters. All that’s left are the steps. All there will ever be for you is steps.

            Suddenly, a different sound appears, quiet, but different enough from the steps that it makes you halt, foot mid-air. It almost sounds like a voice but is too muffled for you to make out any words. You desperately listen, but all you hear is silence. There is complete silence, a silence so absent of any sound that it begins to drive you mad, so you start climbing again. Shaking your head, you conclude that you have started losing your mind, and a small sharp pain from that realization stabs your chest as you _step, step, step, step._

            You let your thoughts blur, but they snap to attention when you hear the voice again, this time a bit clearer.

            _“pl      , o    n       r   es. C             ck to    ,   y s   r    t.”_

            Something is familiar about the voice, something friendly, and warm, and so distinctly _home_ , and your head begins to hurt a little. Hope blossoms in your chest, but at the same time, fear strikes your heart. While you are desperate to leave this tower, or to end the agony of your purgatory, you do not know anything besides this tower. What awaits you on the other side? What is life beyond this? Is there even anything out there?

            You jump, as the voice gets louder, and louder, echoing in your head and the walls of the tower.

            “WAKE UP! PLEASE WAKE UP!”

            Wake up? What does that mean?! ‘I am most certainly awake!’, you think, suddenly very scared of the voice. You wildly look around, peering far above and far below the tower, as if you could spot the owner of the mysterious voice.

            Again, the voice booms, now soley in your head, louder still.

            “JUST OPEN YOUR EYES!”

            Images flood your mind, moving too fast for you to make them out. Glimpses of objects: a tarot deck, scalpel, teapot, compass, and a necklace leave you confused and grasping your head in pain. You try to cry out, but all you can manage is a weak yelp, your voice so unused to speech.

            You fall to the floor, pain from the fall barely registering over the torment in your skull. It feels almost like a white-hot knife has been stabbed in your brain and is being twisted mercilessly. The memories become clearer and you can see people, sick, dying. Their eyes are red, and their voices echo in your mind. TO LOUD. Their pain is deafening, sickening, overwhelming. Their thoughts suffocate you, and you are left breathless, the pain escalating exponentially, and the original voice is still screaming. Red is everywhere, it is burning, on you, the walls, the blurry faces around you. You feel red, it’s inside you, tearing you apart from the inside. The red is inescapable, everywhere, a constant. Your entire life is red, you are red, red, red, RED REDREDREDREDREDREDREDREDREDRED.

Your vision blurs out, and everything seems to stop. You feel as if someone is tugging you, feathery light, and secure, and the memories halt in your mind. You drift apart, staring up at red.


	2. Pre-game experiment logs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Experiment gone wrong?

I don’t remember how long we’ve been here, it almost feels like eons. When we started working on this project, we all had high hopes – all of us were skilled in medicine and magic, so perhaps we would be able to work together to solve this dilemma!  
Oh but what a misconception! Not a day goes by where there isn’t bickering amongst us. I fear that if work continues like this, we will never progress.  
Perhaps they should be separated. I will bring it up to the supervisor tomorrow~ I’d hate to lengthen the rift between the magical and the medical, but it may be unavoidable.  
Anyway, my experiments have progressed nicely~ though, preserved brains can only get me so far. I hope to progress to live patients soon.

* * *

 

I have finally been given access to living patients! So far, every time I use my magic to connect with the patient’s consciousness, I only get a glimpse before I am shut out. I am going to consult Rose, perhaps there is a problem with my circle.  
The main experiment is crawling at a snails pace, I may have to step in if I complete my trials before the main team.  
Oh~ but I am very much excited for the main experiment! If successful, I will be able to read emotions and pain from any individual simply by using my magic. It doesn’t stop there either! Toby’s team is looking for a way to increase the rate of magical healing, without killing the caster. We would be able to heal the most deadly wounds, and save hundreds of lives.

* * *

 

It is almost complete, and I have finalized my experiments. Naturally, I will act as the catalyst, or conductor, as my magic is the most compatible.

* * *

 

Tomorrow is the day of the experiment. It’s strange~ I have this feeling of fear, like I’m on the edge of a cliff and I’m about to fall. I shall write it off as nerves and excitement. The calculations and diagrams have been checked thouroughly, and ALL circumstances have been accounted for. I have the utmost confidence in tomorrow’s procedure. 

* * *

 

They’re screaming. Make them stop screaming. I can hear their voices and they aren’t mine so make them stop make them go away I don’t want these memories if they aren’t mine they shouldn’t exist IT HURTS

* * *

 

They tell you that the song bird sings in the morning but if its always morning then when does it stop? I can hear the voices they tell me what you’re thinking but if you stop thinking I can’t hear you and then I have no voices. The gaurds! The gaurds! That’s the key that’s the ticket! The guard the key the 12, turn, stomp. Can you hear them calling? It’s time! IT’s TIME!! The bird is dead and the song has stopped they were hungry so they ate the bird they left us and we have nothing but birds so we have no songs sung to be heard and no one to hear the song which is to be sung.

* * *

  
They don’t know. They don’t KNOW! Red. Red everywhere! Its in the trees the voices the songs the wind. I can feel it can you? Can you hear the red? I got worse then better then worse then better and now I’m here and there’s no more birds. Something is coming hee! Yes! I can feel it can you?  
If I can look at you you can look at me but this is not the same because we see in one direction but I two for some reason this is the case and you can not see it but I can  
Screaming screaming all I hear is screaming and THEY are the ones who did this to us! Hahahha! its here its here itshereithereherehere! RED is here and soon the birds will be back and we can taste the songs and feel the red

* * *

  
I can hear it I can hear the red already it has come and we are free and the red is the end  
Soon it will be the end for everyone but what a glorious end to have in RED  
I see redeyesredeyesredeyestheirmine

* * *

  
Im not alone theres someone else here and they are red and that’s how I know the red is good becauseiamnowredandeverythingwillsoonberedREdisthewayfortheendandthe beginning  
andthefoundationandtheendandforgedinredtobecomethesongsoIcaneatandnotberedanymore  
If I am the red, who  
Are  
You?


	3. Red doesn't scare me when it's you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omaira and Julian meet up with Nadia (and Valdemar) OoOooOoooOoooo I'm writing this with a headache~hehehehehhehe.

It was a relatively calm day when I met them. Blue birds sang peacefully in the mid-morning warmth, and my mind was calm.

Dr. Devorak-Julian- was nervously pulling me up the palace steps, long strides forcing me into a jog to keep up.

For a week, he has been asking-pleading-begging me to accompany him to the palace. He is to have lunch with the Countess ~apparently, they are friends~ and somehow got me to agree to leave my shop to meet her.

We fly by a pair of bored guards as Julian rambles on, “Oh the countess will adore you! Once she sees your exceptional medical prowess, she’ll make you one of the court doctors, and the count will have no choice but to accept! Hah!”  
Wait a minute!

“Julian, I don’t think- “, I began, confused, while Julian continued, lost in dialogue.

“Oh, that would be amazing! Don’t you think? I for one, would much rather work alongside you, than certain doctors.”

The Quaestor. He was certainly talking about the Quaestor. The amount of distaste Julian spat about the Quaestor made them seem like a demon. However, the farther I was pulled into the cavernous halls of the palace, the more I mused. Turning, I spotted a pot of carnations and wondered if their eyes were really red as evil itself. Surely not, it’s an exaggeration.

Julian stopped abruptly, and I nearly crashed into him. We were in front of an open door, to what appeared to be a bright and open balcony. Julian squeezed my hand, and I glanced up at him.

“I didn’t exactly tell her you were a magician too, but I don’t think that should be that important, and she can be a little intimidating sometimes, but once you get to know her she’s really nice soIthinkyou’llbothbefineImean-“

“Julian,” I laughed, placing my hand softly on his arm, “let’s just have lunch, okay?”

Julian breathed out, “okay,” and in one motion, pulled us both onto the patio.

Vines hung down from the ceiling, mimicking curtains, and vibrant flowers were woven into the intricate carved stone, creating a soft sweet aroma. Smiling fondly, I spotted a pot of marigolds, and felt Julian stiffen and slightly pull me closer to his body. Started, I turned to the other side of the room.

Sitting at a circular table, adorned with various breakfast and lunch delicacies, sat Nadia, and surprisingly, the Quaestor. Nadia, seeing us, smiled and put down her cup of tea with a quiet clink, while the Quaestor stared at me curiously, unaffected by the burning glare they were receiving from Julian.

“Julian!” The countess greeted, fierce eyes shifting to me, “and Omaira, I presume?” She lightly gestured to the two empty seats at the table. “I was wondering when you two would join us. Quaestor Valdemar, and I were discussing the possibility of expanding the dungeons, for medical work.”

Julian hesitated, looking between the seats, obviously conflicted. Smiling, I quickly walked over, and sat in the seat closest to the Quaestor. A surprised, but quiet panicked noise escaped Julian, making me turn toward him with a teasing grin.

“What are you waiting for Jules?”

As the lunch progressed, I found myself stealing glances at Valdemar, only to find their eyes already watching me, unashamed. As Nadia and Julian made comfortable conversation, I fidgeted, then turned fully toward the Quaestor.

They tilted their head, as I blurted, “you have the most interesting eyes.”

Their amused “Oh?” was slightly muffled by their surgical mask, which crinkled slightly due to what I presumed was them smiling.

“Yes! The eyes, after all, are the windows to the soul, and are different to each person’s personality.” Beaming up at them, I continued, “The colors of the iris, in fact, usually represent the aura.”

“Your eyes,” I continued excitedly, “look like blood, but when the light hits them just right, look like the most beautiful, bright carnations.” A flash of a memory hit me, the Red that infects that iNGulFEs, but I quickly shook the memory away and peered into the eyes of the Quaestor.

"Your eyes remind me why I used to love the color red."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omaira is not scared of Valdemar, hmmm??? Do I smell the beginnings of a beautiful, psychotic friendship?  
> Also, I have no idea how to indent, this is my first fanfic so~


	4. Dungeon Journal 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a few entries of Omaira's thoughts during the plague/in the dungeons~

It’s almost adorable how protective Julian is over me, which is strange, because normally only Asra is like this.

He’s always fussing over me, and every time the Quaestor walks in the room, Julian instinctively moves as if to hide me from their gaze. When I do manage to peek around his lanky figure (how is he so tall??), their eyes always catch mine. Julian _must_ realize by now, that jumping in front of me will only draw attention to ourselves (especially when we’re on opposite sides of the room)

I don’t understand why the others are so – afraid? – of them. ~~Maybe because they don’t know true fear~~. I usually prefer their presence to the other doctors. They are just so much more- _quiet_. Even when I bumped into them, _I didn’t hear a thing._ They just chuckled and continued walking, (though if you asked Julian, they might as well have killed me).

I wonder if I’ll be able to continue my experiments here. There certainly are more resources, and I know a few who would be willing to help. Not to mention, things will be very different, ~~I know what I’m doing~~ , I think I know what I’m doing this time. 

* * *

 

Ever since the plague has _plagued_ this city, procedure has changed in the dungeons. Everything is a bit rushed, crowded, and imbued with a sense of desperation. Everyone is so jumpy, and their worry is practically suffocating me. I definitely _do_ think there needs to be something to lift everyone’s spirits! A corpse party would do them wonders!

Anyway~ I might be one of the only excited people down here! Just this afternoon, the Quaestor came up to me, and invited me to participate in a procedure tomorrow! They told me I could use the brain for my side experiments and additional research for the neurological effects of the red plague~ they are so thoughtful! ~

* * *

 

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting ~~red~~ , but it wasn’t _exactly_ a vivisection. I suppose that _is_ the best way to obtain fresh grey matter~

I mean, I could hear their screams from the other side of the dungeon, but I just shook that off as being another dying plague victim. The screams are coming from both doctor and patient, it’s getting hard to distinguish between them.

When I entered the room, they were already set up. The Quaestor – Valdemar -, and their assistant (extremely sweet, I can already tell we’re going to be great friends) started the procedure, and we all soon fell into an easy rhythm. While I cannot really perceive anything from Valdemar, their assistant is more open, and their glow helped block out ~~the red~~ the screams of the patient.

I have noticed ~~the red~~ my mind is a lot clearer around these two. Julian will be furious, but I am going to request to assist in more procedures~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is writing so harddddddddddddddd


	5. Dungeon Journal 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more into Omaira's experiences as a full-fledged plague doctor. If you're in the Valdemar circle on Tumblr, you might be able to tell who Orgo is referencing (not real name) based on the comparison~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I) was gonna add more, but I lost my groove during the last journal entry, so - not as much as I originally wanted to write, ugh

One of the doctors, closest to Valdemar, has agreed to assist me with my experiments. I have yet to learn his name, as most doctors are referred to by number, and he seemed rather reluctant to share names, despite me enthusiastically sharing mine. I do believe he _deserves_ to be referred to by a name (I despise the number system, no matter how efficient it may be), so for the sake of my journals, I will refer to him as Orgo, since he strongly resembles an _Anolis gorgonae_ ~

            Anyway, I was in the middle of dissecting a specimen, pondering how I would be able to complete my experiment with only one set of hands, when Orgo walked in. I have worked closely beside Valdemar for quite some time and could recognize him as one of Valdemar’s favorite doctors. From that observation I concluded that this was a trustworthy, and efficient doctor, and a perfect candidate for the extra set of hands I needed.

            He seemed – indifferent? - at first, I think he was hoping I would give up and leave! Ha! I am nothing if not persistent! He has worked with me before, alongside Valdemar of course, so he should have known this by now~

            I’m still not entirely sure how I managed to convince him. Maybe it was the comment that I would eventually need a live specimen for the experiment?

* * *

 

There are rumours floating about; that me and Julian are together? Ridiculous! Yes, I may go into Dr- Julian’s room many a late night, but those are the only times we are able to talk anymore! How else am I supposed to discuss the health of his ever-growing leech family (I am starting to get concerned), and retaliate with “no, you can NOT have my lamprey”.

Honestly, I don’t see what all the fuss is about! There is nothing inappropriate about seeing a colleague during the- oh dear me that is quite scandalous.

Nevertheless! We have no time for such-such-things! There are experiments to run! There is science to do!

Perhaps I should talk with Dr. Devorak, so that we may put a rest to these rumours…

 

* * *

 

            I cannot believe that it has been 3 months, and I have only met more of the Vesuvian court today! Maybe I should start leaving the dungeon more often…

            I decided to clear my head- I was getting nowhere with my patients, and I was fresh out of fresh resources for my experiments, so I took a trip out to the palace gardens. I’ve seemed to forgotten how lovely the flowers fill the view up with colors.

            I was walking along, admiring a patch of dragon lily, when I spotted a figure hunched down in the dirt! It was quite peculiar, as when I drew near, they seemed to be talking to the dirt!

            I couldn’t tell if this was the good, or bad kind of crazy, so I approached cautiously and introduced myself. It turns out they were none other than Praetor Vlastomil!

            I soon found out that they were talking to the worms beneath the marigolds; they were the good kind of crazy~

            If our 2-hour conversation about giant worms and lampreys is any indication, I believe we will get along quite nicely~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just filler, and I left out any "red" plot, as I don't want to finish this too quickly. I rather like thinking of these small moments of Omaira's story~


	6. The Empath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short explanation for what Omaira's magic is (only when she is young though. It's a lot more complicated than I can explain when she's older uggnngngn)

Each mage has a certain talent, a pull towards a certain magical category. Some are better suited for elemental magic, some prefer the spectral, while some may be drawn to the life in the forests.

Omaira, as classified by the elders, was an Empath. Now for a three-year-old, this type of magic was very confusing. Not only was it rare, but it was hard to understand. In such an underdeveloped state, when the small girl tried to use her magic, she would get vague feelings and emotions. If she grabbed someone’s hand, or looked a bit too closely into their eyes, different colors would begin radiating off of them, and the poor girl would start feeling things that weren’t her own.

By the age of six, Omaira was able to control her magic somewhat. A gentle brush of her fingers, and she could share in a happy moment. An accidental bump into a stranger, and suddenly, she felt their sorrow.

‘These are only emotions’, Omaira kept reminding herself, it was becoming easier, and easier to isolate emotions that were hers from those she empathized with. Besides, her power made her loved all throughout the town. Despite being only 6, her power forced her to mature extremely early, and many people came to her to share, vent, or just simply talk.

She also knew how to change people’s mood, which was her favorite part of her magic. It was hard to describe, but if she wanted to improve someone’s mood, she could reach out her magic, and flow it through their mind, coloring in the emotions she wanted.

One summer evening, Omaira was walking home from her friend’s house, when she heard whimpering, as if someone was in pain. Closing her eyes, she concentrated as hard as she could, and felt the faintest feeling of despair coming from a nearby alleyway. She didn’t think, just ran. When she rounded the corner, she found a man lying on the ground, blood soaking through his shirt.

“Help!”, she screamed, rushing over to the man.

She kneeled beside him, and without thinking, placed her hand on his shoulder, to try to comfort him.

She screamed as her stomach erupted into pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is a bit crap, because I wrote this while feeling awful (Apparently I suddenly can't handle caffeine anymore?)


End file.
